Society

Saturday

Paul Johnson

Who’s eating my favourite lizards on Lake Como?

The great thing about taking a holiday every year in the same place — provided it is the right place of course — is that you notice the huge, reassuring continuities, and the minute changes which prove that life, though stable, is at work. This is what I find in early autumn at Lake Como, which I have now been visiting for the best part of two decades. I look at it very intently, and necessarily so, for I paint it in watercolour every day I am there: at least one picture in the morning, and another in the afternoon, sometimes four per day. I have probably done over 200

Allister Heath

Northern Rock: morally hazardous

First we heard about ‘sub-prime mortgages’; then it was ‘collateralised debt obligations’; now it’s the turn of ‘moral hazard’ to appear on the Ten O’Clock News. Jolted out of prosperous complacency by market turmoil, the public has started to care about economics: strange jargon and obscure concepts previously familiar only to investment bankers are going mainstream. The best way to understand moral hazard is to reflect on how taking out insurance changes our behaviour, encouraging us to take greater risks and less care of our possessions. A holidaymaker without travel insurance is more likely to keep an eye on his baggage than one who can claim compensation if it’s lost

Neil Collins

The new senior partner sets out his stall

The trade could only gasp at the figures Charlie Mayfield revealed a fortnight ago. Next week, the new chairman of John Lewis Partnership hopes they’ll be gasping again as he opens 17,000 square feet of food hall at John Lewis in Oxford Street. No, not quite a Waitrose, but something that he claims will be different, the result of ‘co-operation between Waitrose and John Lewis’. If you thought that as sister companies they were on the same side, then you really don’t know how big corporations work. And JLP, as it is inevitably called by its executives, is a big corporation nowadays, with 68,000 employees — oops, sorry, partners —

Lucy Vickery

Dream date

In Competition No. 2513 you were invited to submit a Spectator Love Bug ad for a well-known literary character. I was hoping for such comic gems as grace the compellingly quirky lonely-hearts column in the London Review of Books: ‘Eager-to-please woman, 36, seeks domineering man to take advantage of her flagging confidence. Tell me I’m pretty and watch me cling’. This potentially suicidal self-deprecation produces ads that are both hilarious and touching — and apparently successful from time to time. What woman could fail to be won over by Quasimodo’s honesty, courtesy of John Plowman: ‘You say personality matters more than looks? Well, I’m your man. Brought up in an

Fraser Nelson Fraser Nelson

This will be Cameron’s finest hour — or the scene of a lynching

Just six weeks ago, David Cameron was enthusing to friends about Arnold Schwarzenegger’s speech to the Conservative party conference. The governor of California had been on the phone, saying how much he was looking forward to visiting Blackpool. It turned out that Schwarzenegger knew what he was in for, having toured England’s seaside towns during the bodybuilding pageants of his youth. Then, a fortnight later, he had mysteriously become too busy, and the supposedly relished visit was — well — terminated. It is a fair bet that a British opinion poll found its way to Sacramento. When Mr Cameron first wrote to the governor, the Tories were ten points ahead.

Fraser Nelson Fraser Nelson

‘Now we have got to have something to say’

A new map hangs in George Osborne’s office, showing the latest parliamentary boundaries for the next general election. It could have been designed to soothe the nerves of a Conservative party election co-ordinator, for it is dominated by Tory blue. A few tricks have been used to achieve this optical illusion. There is no Scotland, for example, and marginal Labour seats are painted a faint red. But overall the picture is of a Conservative country, and an election which is eminently winnable. This is how Mr Osborne sees it — and not, he insists, just to keep morale up. ‘Although I never said so at the time, I went into

Simon Courtauld

Farewell to a noble figure in Spectator history

Ian Gilmour was not the only proprietor of The Spectator also to be its editor, but he was unquestionably the best. Patrician, wealthy, high-minded, unassuming, the 28-year-old Etonian ex-Grenadier Guardsman raised a number of eyebrows when he bought the magazine in 1954 and took over the editorial reins himself. However, the five years of his editorship were to cause a lot more surprise when, in fostering The Spectator’s libertarian tradition, he not only espoused radical causes but frequently opposed the Eden and Macmillan governments. In some important respects The Spectator under Gilmour’s direction anticipated the free-thinking mood of the 1960s. He was a junior barrister, in Lord Hailsham’s chambers, and

James Forsyth James Forsyth

Welcome to the liveliest of coffee houses — online

A warm invitation to The Spectator’s new website The Spectator has a new website — redesigned, easier to use, with new features and writers. The online magazine will continue to do what the print magazine has always done on paper: inspire debate, stir up controversy and have some fun, with the added advantage that you can add your thoughts to ours. In expanding our web presence we are being true to the traditions of the magazine. The original Spectator of Joseph Addison and Richard Steele arose from the free-wheeling intellectual sparring of the 18th-century coffee house, and if there’s a modern version of this — a space where people can

Sargy Mann

A choice of recent audiobooks

How do you like a book to be read? There is the way my wife reads to me with her normal, unaccented voice throughout, just as she reads to me from the newspaper, say, letting the words on the page establish in my brain what the author intended — or so we hope. At the other extreme there is the fully acted and dramatised reading with old voices, foreign accents, all speaking angrily, casually, suspiciously, humorously etc. I hate this sort of reading. I feel irritated and patronised, as if the reader is saying, ‘Obviously you and the author can’t get it together on your own but don’t worry, I

Frank Keating

Last rites

Even before the last splurge of qualifying group games are played in rugby union’s World Cup, consensus agrees the tournament has already turned into a calamity for the four from the British Isles. Even before the last splurge of qualifying group games are played in rugby union’s World Cup, consensus agrees the tournament has already turned into a calamity for the four from the British Isles. Even a quarter-final place will mean a grievous sudden-death public execution next weekend. We shall see. Mind you, say the silver-lining bright-siders, the rugby in France has at least been a jolly sight heartier for domestic spirits than that of England’s cricketers in South

Friday

Alex Massie Alex Massie

In search of a Golden Age…

When I saw that The Atlantic had a feature on “The Greatest Sports Book Ever Written” in its October edition I thought, well, that’s nice but I daresay they really mean “The Greatest Sports Book Ever Written That Isn’t About Cricket.” Be wary of your assumptions. turns out I underestimated the Atlantic’s taste and perspicacity. For, lo, there it is: a fine piece by Joseph O’Neill explaining why CLR James’ Beyond A Boundary is an important work – though a mystifying one should you have no knowledge of the greatest game of them all. O’Neill concludes that it’s sad that Beyond A Boundary is off-limits to Americans. But I’m not

Liz Anderson

You’ll be laughing presently

Present Laughter opens at the National Theatre next week and I went to a preview last night. Theatre-goers are in for a treat. Alex Jennings is a terrific Garry Essendine (a part Noël Coward himself played), and the set by Tim Hatley is wonderfully evocative of a Thirties drawing room. Altogether a hugely warm-hearted, witty production.

Sarah Standing

A dazzling evening

Just come home from Theo Fennell’s exhibition “Show Off” at The Royal Academy of Arts – one of the glitziest and most impressive parties I’ve been to this year. Theo has brilliantly elevated and showcased his jewellery designs to a new level. This is an “experience” not to be missed.  By devising a series of extraordinary installations of great beauty, innovation and humour he forces the viewer to look at his jewels as a serious art form. This puts Damien Hirst’s diamond-encrusted skull in the shade. This is beauty and the bling. Craft and creativity. Don’t miss it.    

Thursday

Alex Massie Alex Massie

Department of Reaping What You Sow

I hadn’t paid any attention to the women’s World Cup until the US manager Greg Ryan decided it was a sensible notion to switch goalkeepers before yesterday’s semi-final against Brazil, dropping first choice Hope Solo (great name!) and recalling the 36 year old Briana Scurry. Off-hand I can’t think of any comparable goalie switch. When Alex Ferguson famously dropped Jim Leighton and promoted Les Sealey for an FA Cup final replay his decision was at least based on what her perceived as Leighton’s loss of confidence. But Ryan had no such excuse since no-one, not even the manager, pretended that Solo had done anything wrong. Instead what seems to have

Alex Massie Alex Massie

If she had chosen to support the Washington Nationals she wouldn’t embarrass herself in this fashion…

This is why people hate politicians. Just when you start thinking that it might not be terrible if Hillary Clinton becomes the next President of the United States you, hear stuff like this. Sure, it’s trivial in one sense but it tells us more about her than the details of whatever health care plan she’s punting these days. She even ducked the question of which team she’d root for if her hometown Chicago Cubs met the New York Yankees in next month’s World Series. “I’d have to switch back and forth,” she said.

Clemency Burtonhill

One of the best places in London to hear music

I spent last night in one of my favourite places in the whole of London: Wilton’s Music Hall. Anyone who hasn’t yet been to the magical, near-derelict building which is hidden down Graces Alley near the Tower of London: go. A treat is in store for you. The place where the Can-Can was premiered—and promptly banned—it is the oldest surviving music hall in the world and is also included, sadly, in the world’s 100 most endangered buildings. Stepping from the blustery September wind into its warm, crumbling interior last night I was reminded of the wonderful sense of history that envelops you there: the faded gilt and mahogany holding the

Stuart Reid

Now for something truly horrible

They say that things will be better between Britain and American — or at any rate between No 10 and the White House — when Hillary Clinton becomes president. How depressing is that? For an answer, check out these clips of the Laughing Hillary from Jon Stewart’s team at the Daily Show. The woman has been so thoroughly groomed for television that she is now scarcely human. Her laugh must be the most grisly product on the face of the earth. It’s so horrid it’s hilarious.   Yet this is the person most likely to be the next President of the United States. What’s wrong with America? There are no

Liz Anderson

BT need to be more broad minded

Success – of a sort. I first contacted Virgin Media seven weeks ago as I wanted to change from dial-up to broadband. Yesterday (after some five weeks of almost daily nagging) I was sent a text message that my ‘Virgin broadband service is now active’. Why the delay? Virgin blamed BT, and BT wouldn’t speak to me as I was not a retail customer. During the five-week impasse, I asked BT – retail sales division — how long it would take to set up its broadband on my (BT) telephone line. Five working days, I was told. If BT can fix broadband for its own customers so quickly, why not

Mark Amory

Have the Angry Young Men won out?

Proofs of The Letters of Noel Coward and a new book about the Royal Court Theatre arrived at The Spectator together and their conjunction made me wonder, who is winning? In 1956 Look Back in Anger arrived in Sloane Square and is supposed to have blasted the genteel primness from the London stage forever. A motley group were roped together as Angry Young Men (Iris Murdoch? Angus Wilson?) and stood for the future. Naturally this could not quite be true overnight but the new playwrights flourished and multiplied, new actors with new accents became stars, the plays transferred to the West End and Broadway. Soon the Royal Court directors made